The wave
by Yellow oreos
Summary: Oropher's last battle, and his will to his son Thranduil. To become the wind. No harmful contents. Sad. Angst. For all ages. No romance. Father - son love. (Original fic by venta)


Originally written by **Venta**.

Translated and brought to you by **Yellow oreos**.

Based on the novel universe of **J.R.R. Tolkien**.

**The Wave**

**.**

The wave, a gentle corruption on the surface of the ocean.

**.**

The army resembled the wave of the ocean, nudged forward by the stormy breeze,

Thought the prince of the Green woods, as he fought away the endless blows aiming for his head.

The small specks under the hill roared as they collided with each other. sending blows that beheaded them, tearing off the flesh hidden under solid armor.

Warm blood smeared the meadow, blood of various owners that he knew not, mingled together into one, as their screams and yells filled the space between sky and earth.

This was a wave. A wave.

**.**

Ada.

As things started to grow better, the prince started searching breathlessly for his father.

No one was alive except for a few elves present around the prince.

The prince searched countless times for his father near the field of corpses.

Every time a faceless, unrecognizable carcass was turned-over by the toe of his shoe, some sort of lumpy substance seemed to spill.

Constantly thinking of the worst, the prince kept searching.

Please. Please do not let his beloved father lie under his feet.

If so, please let him still be breathing, don't leave him in a state that could be kicked around his feet,

Or even- just let him be recognizable...

**.**

So, please...

**.**

A hot sensation started to rise from deep under the prince's throat.

Like a fire, an inferno-

It burned the insides of the prince's throat.

He was not a child anymore, but still, it kept blocking his view with a dim, hazy sort of blur.

The few tears that hadn't managed to run down his face, kept congealing to the prince's long eyelashes.

Father was a strong person. He will be fighting somewhere. He knew it.

Or so the prince told himself.

**.**

The image of his father was still clear before the prince's eyes, Only hours before, strong and filled with courage- leading the army of elves into enemy camp.

Of course, they would all die for sure. Knowing this, the princes tried to stop him- but the king of the Green woods kept moving onwards.

The thought, that this might be the last of seeing his father, swept the prince with an Icy cold-sensation of a source that the prince knew not.

**.**

Are the hopes that he possess merely a false thought. Dark, Black thoughts devoured the prince, still searching for his father with the toe of his shoe, flipping over corpses.

You are now all alone. Alone- is so lonely, is it not? You, as your father before you did, will die here and now. Breathe your last breath.

The living will kick your body aside, stomp on it, perhaps. Just like you're doing now. You and your father's kingdom is at it's end.

Nothing shall be left. Your beloved people will scatter around nameless lands- and end in deaths that no one shall remember.

That is the end of your clan, the end of your kingdom in Green wood, Thranduil- prince of Green wood.

My father lives. He lives- somewhere. He might be back in the tents, waiting- like usual-for me, for his son.

The prince reassured himself. The sky- just like the prince felt - was cloudy and still.

**.**

Please, please.

**.**

The prince searched in between the corpses. Under his feet lay a father of some clan- a son of some mother- kicked aside by his searching foot.

It mattered not to the prince who these people were. Just as many specks of sand were meaning less to the still movement of the water..

It mattered only that he find his shining jewel, among the many sand- just finding his beloved father was all that mattered to the prince.

Yes, not a single word was wrong from what the Dark thoughts had said to him.

He too- would be trampled by horses and kicked by countless feet until he was unrecognizable just as the rest- if he had died here and now.

That was solid knowledge, in fact. In which the prince found nothing to be sad about.

For he had in front of his eyes, a second life, another chance to live.

That was all.

**.**

The thoughts that the prince of green wood had for his father, was golden.

The prince's childhood- like many other children, was full of his father. His world, His hero.

His father, the king of Green wood was beautiful, yet he stood tall and strong.

Strict to everyone, but loved his prince more than anyone.

Although this love couldn't always be spotted by the naked eye, the prince could feel its presence, heavy yet silent.

If he too could not find this love, he would watch every movement of his father's actions to spot a glimpse of it.

Even as the prince grew, and a distance between to grow between them, he still knew well that his brusque, curt father still loved him.

Even in days that he was scolded, or days that passed without further ado.

To the prince, the relationship between himself and his father would always be an awkward one, but at the same time, there was no better company to him than his father.

His brusqueness would always be the warm sunshine, more than anything to him.

**.**

The prince too, loved the king.

He loved the king in a level that he knew not if it was a kind of passionate love that he had for his father, or just a strongly feeling of father- son respect.

Every time the prince thought of his father, his heart raced and burned like white- hot metal, glazing in the fire.

Though he was not foolish enough to be plowed around by his peculiar feelings, the prince realized that his feelings had started to become a new mix, a tangle of thought that became blurred.

He wished to untangle all these thoughts, to find the true end of this long-long emotion.

If this, was really, actual love- than what had he better do.

Countless times, he saw his father smiling, in his dreams.

By his side stood he himself, and his father would spare words of deepest kindness and care to him.

But it was merely a day's dream.

Awoken from the dreams, his father would treat him in his usual curt, cold manner.

And that was reality.

And of course, it was mere admiration.

**.**

All of a sudden, from deep inside the prince's mind, stirred up a fragment of thought,

about the flower- crowns that his father used to make, or the small trips holding his father's sleek white hand- outside the palace picking flowers.

As the young prince spun around, petals from the crown fell and flew, and his father's smile- As he picked the prince up into his arms.

Only then- he thought. When he was young and little.

Quite a rare sight that was, and yet he could not remember so well.

**.**

The prince's thoughts dropped in mid- thinking, not strong enough to be connected whole.

**.**

" Thranduil. "

a voice, fainter than a small whisper of a moan, could be heard.

A voice, that he knew too well. Although strengthless and weaker than usual, the prince sensed that it was indeed his father.

For only he called the prince by his name.

**.**

Ah, Ada. A small gasp escaped the prince's lips.

**.**

The prince found the king, even in his sight blurred by tears that did not yet escape.

Not even caring what lies beneath his feet, kicking and stepping on the corpses as he ran towards his father.

As he descended step by step, crunching noises could be heard.

The prince just decided to assume that they were merely fallen branches from the Green woods.

But of course, he had no time for even that thought.

**.**

The king of the Green woods lay gathering what was left of his breath, resting his head down against a tree.

The dirt around him, lay damp and dark, smeared by the king's blood.

The prince rested the king's head on his own hand, then closed his eyes.

His mouth grew dryer and dryer. It mattered not, nor did it startle the prince everytime he cut a person with is blade,

but to see his shining father dying before him, was more than agony.

The king's body was cold. Every now and then, every dropping breath could be heard and the prince shuddered.

Even at that moment, his father was a strong king.

**.**

Thranduil, is that you.

The prince answered to his father's summoning over and over again. That it was indeed, his son and prince of the Green woods in front of his eyes.

Even at this very moment, The prince had a lot to ask of his father.

How he became this ill and injured, or if he could accompany him to the tents where the soldiers were,

if he fell now how would he take care of the many promises they had made together, what was he thinking, sacrificing so many, driving his people there like that.

But the prince knew better than that. That this, shall be the last moment of him and his father's long history.

It was that reason, that the prince could not say a word.

This damp dirt floor of the battle field shall be the last stop of his father, the king of the Green woods.

The tree that burnt black, shall watch over his last moment.

He would literally, have the last moment that would never fit for a king.

The dream that the prince had, was when the end of his time grew near in middle earth, with an offspring resembling him in his arms, his loving wife and father-

they would all leave middle earth- to the land of the Valar.

Remembering the days of their small kingdom, and living the dream, never to be parted.

A dream that had shattered so easily.

For the prince knew that even if his father lived, he would surely be severely ill for a long time.

Of course, that would never happen.

Never.

**.**

The king regretted his actions a little too late.

He knew well that his fast acting will surely kill himself.

He should have stopped and soothed his anger when the prince circled around him on his horse, desperate to stop him.

His pride had gotten the better of him.

**.**

Oropher, the king of the Green woods, was a wave in the lead.

He roamed the battle field as a wave in a storm.

The war, a place where waves collided, broke against each other into miniscule droplets of water, was a meeting place of the waves.

The king ruled over the other smaller waves, captured their intrest and gained their trust, leading them whole.

He, was that sort of a king.

Many years ago, Oropher had started a wave, to become king of the Green woods.

He had found land to rest his people, and had gained strength.

The king was indeed the one maximizing the power of the wave, but the source that started it was the wind.

**.**

And, the king of the Green woods was merely just but a wave.

**.**

As time went by, the king grew to embrace his life as a wave.

At least, until his son was born.

When the prince was born into this world, unlike any other father, the king wished his son to be a better person than he himself was.

To be a king, that kept the family name and lead on his kingdom fairly and strictly.

He did not wish his son to live the life of a wave.

**.**

Always, the king remained as a wave.

Never a current that stirred the insides of the ocean, letting it breathe, but just a wave.

A wave, pushed around just on the surface, by the wind.

The king did not want his son to become a person, so much like himself- pushed around and bossed.

He wished him to become a leader, in front of every thing and strong.

So he treated his son as cold and strict as he could.

Wishing his son to become the wind.

The prince was indeed as gorgeous as anything, but the king never let it show.

Only in his heart, did he expressed his love for the prince, hoping that he would notice this silent feeling,

watching him grow in silence, day after day.

The prince too, having to be raised under such a brusque father, never really was the expressing type.

But deep down he was as caring and loving as anyone.

The king, knew this very well.

.

For years, The king roamed the battle field, pushed by the wind that he so loathed.

The greedy, insistent dark winds. The king loathed them, hated them.

Day after day, pushed by them- fighting wars that could not be avoided.

Every moment was a desperate movement to survive.

And at last, the long struggle had come to an end.

The end, that never was the end. That ambiguous point.

**.**

The king stroked his chest slowly. Shuddering as his hands and feet lost warmth and sense.

Wishing, hoping that someone came to help him.

The warmth of blood, leaving his body.

The king now knew very well that he would die here and now.

**.**

The image of the prince in his youth, lingered in front of his eyes.

An armful of flowers that resembled so much of his beauty, laughing.

The most lovable image of the prince that he possessed in his memories.

The many petals, fell soft and silent next to the prince.

Ada, Ada. Look at these flowers.

The prince's voice, not yet ripened with age- ringed in his head.

What had he said, then. The king did not know.

Yes, what beautiful flowers they are. You should not pick flowers as you wish.

Had he persuaded him, like this.

Flowers as beautiful as my son.

Would have been a better statement.

The regret, is always late.

**.**

I love you. And now, until this moment of my last breathe, I still love you.

I will love you in the second world where we could not meet.

All I have left now is to bury this emotion deep in my heart, then end the life in this world.

When I close my eyes, I shall see you no more.

**.**

The color of the foggy sky, resembled that of faded silk.

Had it been a better scenery, it would have been so much better.

Some fragment of thought, so calm despite the situation, made him let out a short laugh, much like a sigh.

As he lay down his hand that had been stroking the arrow firmly stuck in his chest, onto the ground, some part of the blood-soaked earth rolled against his hand.

The unpleasant sensation of the approaching death, was the first and last thing that he would ever feel.

**.**

The last stop, this is the end. Your loving face drives in and out of view.

Eventually, another current falls in this wave, and a new wave is born.

The history has repeated this for as long as I can remember.

I shall be another sacrifice to this.

And, someday you shall be as well.

**. **

This, is a wave.

**.**

You, are a child that should overcome this wave- and become the wind.

You should never become a mere wave- as I, your father before you.

As the dark winds here, you should become the wind, the one stroke of wind that decides where the waves shall head.

But never be the wind that obsesses over the waves.

The waves, are just but a small part of this world.

The specks of sand that lie beneath the waves, are also the ones that shine when gathered,

and the creatures that dwell underneath the waves, they too are the people that we should embrace.

**.**

My son, become the loved one.

Not all in this world could love you, but become the one that loves them all.

Become the one that loves. If you do not love them first, do not expect love from them as well.

Give your love unnoticed.

.

Become a merciful wind.

A wild flower that sprouted on the road, make sure that you let it catch it's breath with your power.

If later on you indeed have a child, never let him spare tears on his face, brush against the child's forehead softly.

If the child has brought you an armful of flowers, merely comment him on how beautiful they are.

Listen to his stories in silence. Like you had done with me, the time for this talk is not that long.

**.**

Even if you find my instructions difficult, never be faulted for being careless.

You should be the king that looks back at every small thing, and learn to care for it.

**.**

My child, my son. How could I ever leave you like this here, alone.

The every moment of my past, my regrets, sweeps my every part.

If I had ever told you how much I did love you, in speech, if I had listened to you much more, if I had hugged you in my arms.

Had this not have happened? Now, in this moment, everything is a regret to me.

I have never really asked if you desired the throne.

Am I not leaving you a place that you do not really want, and then leaving so soon, I do not know. I will never know.

I feel so heavy, leaving here, you, like this.

Leaving you a burden much too heavy.

I am sorry.

**.**

Thranduil, my star, are you listening.

**.**

Become the wind, not the wave. Win the hardships and battles that lie before you and become the wind.

**.**

Be the king that embraces everything.

Remember the ones that fought with us, and those that will be left in this land, praise them, honor them.

If you lead the left ones into the palace that I do not exist, embrace the left ones and shut the doors.

Embrace their wounds, with your own- of my absence.

**.**

Thranduil, is it really you, that I see before me.

Never let my last linger in your water-shade eyes. Now you should turn your back, go back your way.

I will be waiting.

**_._**

The prince, pulled from his father's chest, the arrow that ended his life.

Then gathered the king's cold hands together on his chest, with his sword clutched in them.

Then the prince left.

**.**

As the prince of the Green woods got on his horse, felt that this was indeed the end.

His father was nowhere on this earth.

**.**

With the army, barely one- thirds left, after the end of a long-long war that had finally ended,

The prince came back to the Green woods.

Sat on his father's throne, with his crown made of flowers.

This, was an article left by his dear father after all.

The king never put down his crown.

**.**

Thranduil, king of Green wood.

Thranduil, king of Mirk wood.

**.**

This was the wind born from the waves.

And this is the end of this story.

**.**

**- Uploader's note.**

Hi! I'm the uploader of the fanfic ' The wave '.

the thing is, **I DO NOT** own The wave.

I'm not it's original creator! I'm just her Korean to English translator..

(Sorry for some rough English! I'm not from an English speaking country.)

The author is a person that goes by the internet-nickname Venta, Who's a close friend of mine.

And I had her permition to translate this fanfic into English and upload it with my account.

Sadly, all the cool affects that Venta has put to her story vanished as we uploaded it..

But the story is still amazing and I know she's a very talented writer, so I guess it's just fine! ;)

Also, all the characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkien and his universe of LOTR, The Silmarillion, and The hobbit.

(also known as Tolkien-verse.)

Leave a comment or rating for us so that we can decide whether or not to upload others!

We hope you enjoyed this little piece of fanfic, and thanks for reading! ;)

(+ plus, for those who didn't know, **Ada** is Sindarin (Tolkien's elf language) for father.)


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